My hands are shaking furiously. They won’t stop. Shifting slightly, I move them from my lap and place them underneath my thighs. Quickly sitting on them, I revel in the comfort of complete immobility even if they’re starting to go numb from the lack of circulation. I’m not an overly anxious person, but uncertainty has my nerves on edge.
Despite the turmoil that falling pregnant has caused, I’m starting to get a little excited about it. Even if, in the end, I will be the only one raising it. Just me.
Holy shit.
“Olive Sawyer?” I look up at the sound of my name being called and smile weakly at the pretty middle-aged woman. I’m praying like hell she doesn’t ask where the father is.
Rising from my chair, I follow the nurse as she guides me down the long corridor that has seen better days. I hear that what this place lacks in aesthetics, Dr. Hollis makes up for with being the best ob-gyn that Ivy Falls has to offer. Not that we exactly have a lot of options in this tiny town of ours.
The nurse nods her head in the direction of a small doorway, and I walk through and take a seat in one of the two chairs available by the wall.
“I’m Rachel; Dr. Hollis will be in a few minutes, so let’s get you started. Everything from the waist down off, please. When you’re done with that, hop up onto the exam table and use this to cover your lower half.”
I nod as Rachel hands me a sheet and then exits the room, softly closing the door behind her. I look down at the sheet and notice my hands are still shaking. Damn it. I rub them together and take a deep breath. In through the nose, out through the mouth—something I find myself needing to do a lot of lately. Removing the necessary clothing, I jump up onto the exam table and cover myself with the sheet.
“How are you, Olive?” Dr. Hollis asks a few minutes later as she walks in the door. Her cheery tone and the mug wedged between her fingers indicate she’s more than likely had her morning coffee. I feel a stab of ridiculous jealousy at the thought. I don’t think I’m ever going to adjust to this decaf crap.
“Okay, thanks. Just tired and slightly more emotional than usual.” Understatement.
“That’s all completely normal at this early stage, my dear.” She places her mug down and sanitizes her hands.
“Now, because you are so early in your pregnancy, we need to do a transvaginal ultrasound. Is that okay?” Is it just me, or does she sound slightly remorseful?
Then it clicks.
Oh, shit—it’s the dildo-cam.
It’s not like I have a choice, though.
I can’t help it. I can feel the embarrassment start to slowly creep up my neck, probably turning my face a lovely shade of red. I simply nod and fight the urge to bury my burning cheeks in my hands, cringing when I look up to see her squeezing the cold gel onto the end of the probe.
For the next few minutes, I’m in my own little world, trying not to focus on what is happening down there. But then I hear a sound that has my eyes firmly glued to the monitor. “There we go, nice and strong already,” Dr. Hollis says. I stare in awe as she completes the scan, forgetting about the discomfort as I watch the tiny flickering image on the screen in front of me.
“Okay, we’re done,” she says and then instructs me to dress before she leaves the room once more.
“We’re done, Liv. You knew. You fucking knew where I stood on this issue.”
I wince at not only his harsh tone but also the word issue. Apparently, falling pregnant is now an ‘issue’. One he wants no part in.
“Zeke! Wait, just … let’s talk about it.” I call after him as he zips up his duffel bag and heads to the door. “I knew. Of course, I did. But it’s not like I did this on purpose. You know I’d never do that,” I plead. He stops with his back to me and one hand on the door handle.
“I never once believed that you’d do something like this on purpose. But it’s happened, hasn’t it? And the fact that you’re not even giving me a say in this? Other than to just deal, put a smile on my face, and play daddy of the fucking year for the rest of my life?” He blows out a breath. “No. I can’t.” He glances at me briefly over his shoulder. His face hard as granite. “I’m not playing fucking games or repeating myself, Olive. I’m going. We’re done.” The door closes behind him, and I suck in a breath as tears sting my eyes. What the hell do I do now?
I shake my head and force the painful memory aside as I finish dressing. Slipping my feet back into my ballet flats, I watch as Dr. Hollis re-enters the room and stops in front of her computer. I’m now wondering if everything is okay. She hasn’t said a word unless I didn’t hear her.
“Everything is coming along nicely, Olive. You’re approximately seven weeks and two days with a due date of January twentieth,” she says in that chirpy tone, clearly excited for me.
Even with my heart squeezing painfully in my chest, I can’t help but smile at the news. “Wow.” I let out a heavy breath. “So there seems to be no problems? What else do I need to do?” The words spew from my mouth in an effort to keep my mind firmly rooted in the present.
“As far as I can tell so early on, the baby is perfectly fine, and everything is developing as it should be.” She continues, mentioning the pregnancy vitamins and extra iron supplements I need to take.
I let out a sigh of relief. In spite of everything else burning to the ground around me, this baby is very much wanted. A baby who is both a piece of me and the man I love. Even if he’s damaged what we had beyond repair. He should have been here sharing this moment with me. It’s our baby, not just mine. And it’s with this appointment and the reality that’s starting to really slam down on top of me—whether I like it or not—that I know I can’t give up. Not yet.
I nod to Dr. Hollis and promise her that I’ll grab the supplements on my way home. I thank her for her time and make my way through the door and down the dingy corridor to the reception desk, scheduling my next appointment before walking out the doors with determination fueling my every step. I reach my car outside, hitting the key fob twice to unlock the doors of my black Volkswagen Jetta. Opening the door, I plop into the driver’s seat.
I can do this.
Convincing myself, I turn the key in the ignition and set out for Beau’s apartment.
As I drive through the countryside, the weight of what I’m doing hits me. Soft hills and flowing trees seem to blend, making my drive a steady blur.
What is usually a fifteen-minute drive feels like two minutes, knowing that I have to face the one person who doesn’t want to see me. My gut is churning as I park my car and head for the stairs to the apartment building ahead of me.
As I wait for the elevator, I make a mental note to stay calm. The mix between nerves and fear is almost too much to handle. I take a step back toward the front doors, unsure of whether I really want to go through with this.
I shouldn’t even have to do this, I think to myself when the elevator dings and the doors slide open. Confusion and uncertainty travel through my bloodstream until I hear my pulse ringing in my ears. Why am I doing this? I shove my hands through my hair as anxiety threatens to split me in two.
Get it together, Olive. It’s now or never.
I release my hair and take one step toward the elevator followed reluctantly by another. Convincing myself this is the only way I’ll know what my future might hold. I can’t truly let him go unless I can say I’ve tried just one more time. Once I’m in the elevator, I press the button for the seventh floor and watch as the doors close. The elevator is painfully slow; an agonizing ten-second ride to the seventh floor where Beau’s apartment is located.
The elevator dings, signaling that I’ve finally reached the selected floor. Stepping out and walking the twenty or so feet to the door, I again feel like this is a bad idea. Too late now. Pulling myself together, I square my shoulders and knock. I’m trying to at least look strong, seeing as I left my confidence in the elevator that’s now traveling back down toward the lobby.
Please let him be here.
Or please don’t.
But really, there’s nowhere else Zeke would go. Beau is his lifeline; the only friend Zeke can rely on at a moment’s notice. I raise my hand and knock again, this time a little harder. I hear feet shuffling on the other side the door followed by a groan. My heart stutters in my chest because that particular groan only belongs to one person. I’d usually hear that groan every morning at five a.m. when I woke to the sound of Zeke’s alarm. Or right before he collapsed on top of me after leaving me a mindless, sated mess.
Staring at the doorknob, I clench my fists at my sides and feel sweat gathering in my palms. I open them and rub them vigorously along the sides of my yellow spotted sundress. I’m mentally patting myself on the back for choosing to wear one of Zeke’s favorite outfits when not so silently, the doorknob turns, and the door flies open. Zeke is looking aimlessly above me, towering over my five-foot-eight frame.
“Forget your keys, did you, dick …” Zeke says. Clearly not expecting me, he lowers his eyes and stares. Just stares.
I stare back. I can’t think, and I can’t speak. I just stare into those slightly bloodshot hazel eyes. The very same ones I’ve been staring into for the past six years. They’re usually full of love, laughter, adoration, heat, anything else besides … well, I can’t even name what emotion is filling them now. And I don’t think I want to. I remove my eyes from his, raising them to his sandy blond hair hanging haphazardly across his forehead. As if noticing me staring at it, he brushes it out of his face and drops his now clenched fist back by his side. Breaking the silence, he hits me with a voice I’ve never heard directed at me before.
“What the fuck are you doing here, Olive?”
Stunned stupid by his choice of words, I can’t seem to muster the courage to speak.
He repeats his question at a slower pace as if I didn’t hear him the first time. My eyes widen as I’m snapped out from my frozen state.
“Olive, what the fuck are you doing here? If you aren’t going to hurry up and spit out whatever shit you came here to say, then just leave.” He snarls—oh my God, he actually snarls at me—before he slams the door in my face.
Well, I wasn’t quite expecting that. But I came here to give this one last try. And damn it, I’ll keep at it until I can walk away and know I’ve done all I could.
I bang on the door as loud as I can with my fist, the sound ringing in my ears. He surprisingly opens it again but just stands there, an even nastier scowl marring the face I thought I knew and loved.
Time to see if I can talk some fucking sense into him.
“Liv, Jesus.” He pinches the bridge of his nose before he snaps, “What?!”
Okay, that stung. I pull my shoulders back. “What the hell do you mean what? Can I maybe come in so we can talk like adults?” I ask with a calm I’m not feeling.
He sighs as if I’m irritating him. “You’ve got one minute, so you’d better talk fast. And no, you’re not coming in.”
“Z, come on. What the hell has gotten into you? Are you ever planning to come home? Just come home, and we can figure this out.” Okay, so I’ve reached that begging stage.
He shakes his head while laughing bitterly under his breath, another sound I never thought I’d hear directed toward me, before snapping out a harsh, “No.” Leaning heavily on the doorframe, he shows no sign of backing down.
“No?” My face scrunches up in disbelief. “No?! You’ve got to be fucking kidding me, right?” I scrub my palms over my cheeks. “I can’t believe this. Are you seriously going to make me do this on my own?”
He says nothing, so I continue, “Unbelievable. This isn’t something I ever thought you’d do, especially not to me, but it looks like you’re giving me no other choice.” I throw my hands out into the air and hear them slap audibly back down by my sides in frustration. This is insanity.
“You’re right, just like you gave me no fucking choice in the decision of whether we have this baby or not.” His voice rises to a level that’s making me feel uncomfortable. And more than a little angry.
“Is that why you’re behaving like this? You think having an adult-sized tantrum will make me do what you want? I’ve told you already; I can’t and won’t get rid of this baby. I can’t do that. You knew I couldn’t do that, hence why I went on the pill. But shit, this is our baby. A life is growing inside me. And whether you choose to be a part of that life is completely up to you …” I pause for breath before continuing. “But I wouldn’t wait too long to make up your damn mind, Zeke. We are having this baby in exactly two hundred and twenty-nine days whether we’re ready or not.”
He just stares blankly at me, destroying me with one single look.
Jesus, okay, fuck this.
My heart is pumping overtime as I deliver my last, final blow. At any given time, it’s going to burst into a thousand pieces that I fear will never truly heal again.
“Look, if you can’t get your head out of your ass then kiss goodbye to ever walking back into my life. Asshole.” I practically growl before I suck in a deep breath, trying to calm myself. I can feel my blood pressure rising at a rate that seems inhuman.
“This isn’t a fucking tantrum, Olive. You knew I didn’t want this. You knew I had plans; shit, we had plans. I’m not cut out to be a father yet. Never in my wildest dreams did I think this would be happening right now.” He pauses while shaking his head again. Then he moves from leaning on the doorframe to standing ramrod straight, staring down straight into my green eyes.
“I don’t know how many different ways you want me to say it. I. Don’t. Want. This. So I guess that means this is goodbye then, Olive. Minute’s up.”
My heart finally gives out and shatters not into a thousand pieces but into a million.
There’s nothing I can say to that. Nothing.
I simply stare at his expressionless face for a beat, wondering what happened to the man I fell in love with. Wondering how he can just stand there and watch me fall to pieces right in front of him.
Shock and disbelief alone, keep the tears held at bay. Peeling my eyes away from his, I square my shoulders once more and turn for the elevator. Feeling the sharp fragments of my breaking heart with every painful step that takes me away from Zeke Walters.